Cry Wolf (2 page)

“I’m sorry, did you say Sean Hunter?”

“Yeah. Editor, publisher, reporter…janitor.” Reed snickered. “That’s Sean. He does a little bit of everything, and he’s pretty good at it too. Good guy. You’ll like him.”

Andrea’s stomach lurched.

It was a common enough name. It could be a coincidence that she’d known a Sean Hunter in journalism school. Andrea highly doubted if
that
Sean Hunter would be caught dead even reading a newspaper like the
Woodbine Dispatch
, let alone writing for it.

Couldn’t be the same guy.

It couldn’t be.

It
was
.

As if the mere mention of his name had summoned him, a man approached. His tall, lean body moved with ease as he pushed through a cluster of leaves and low-hung branches. He wasn’t short or stocky, and he wasn’t dressed in a necktie or wearing overly large glasses. Even upside down, Andrea recognized the jeans-clad, muscular man. She had always loved the way Sean Hunter moved, confidently with the grace of a disciplined athlete. She’d attended more than one swim meet in college just to admire that sinewed body. She’d been young and raging with hormones. Everything about Sean had seemed perfect to her then.

Maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s my imagination. Or paranoia?

“Sean! Thank goodness you made it,” Reed said. “I was just about to try again to get her down.”

The man squatted beside her, and Andrea only wished she could blame her imagination.

He leaned down to meet her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded.

“I’m going to have a long talk with the sheriff about Jenkins and his damn traps. Jeez, Reed, couldn’t you at least hold the lady up so she doesn’t have to hang upside down?” Straightening, he handed the teenager the ax he carried in his left hand and reached for Andrea. “Wait until I’ve got her steady and then cut the rope.”

Andrea stared, her mind and body stunned. It was actually him. Sean Hunter. After all this time…

What were the chances?

I have the worst luck in the universe, that’s what the chances are.

She groaned yet again.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Sean slid his arms around her and lifted her body with ease. Upright again, she wrapped both arms around his neck for support. “Cut the rope,” he ordered.

Reed hacked the rope and her legs tumbled to the ground. She would have fallen if Sean hadn’t caught her against his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He looked concerned. Clasped tight against his chest, her face a mere few inches from his, Andrea had no choice but to look at him. The crow’s feet around his chocolate-colored eyes made him look a little older. He used to wear his hair close-cropped, but rather than appear scruffy with this longer length, he looked as if he’d spent an hour at the hair salon to achieve that purposefully disheveled just-got-out-of-bed look so popular among many male models these days.

He smelled great too.

Dammit.

A spiral of heat crawled down her body. She shifted in his grip, wanting,
needing
to be as far away from him as possible. She’d be damned if she let her old schoolgirl crush embarrass her now that she was a woman.

“Are you hurt?” Sean asked again.

Andrea opened her mouth to answer. “I…just—”

“Put the woman down, now!”

The sound of a gun being cocked accompanied the yelled threat. A balding man with a full gray beard and dressed in camouflage stepped out from behind a tree, his rifle pointed directly at them.

Oh great.

What now?

Sean’s grip tightened. “Jenkins, what in the hell are you doing?”

The older man nodded toward the tree Andrea had been hanging from. “She’s the werewolf, Hunter. Told you I’d catch it eventually. She must’a stepped into it last night and changed back to her human form this mornin’.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sean scoffed. “Put that rifle down before you hurt somebody.”

“Not until you prove she ain’t no werewolf!”

Reed stepped forward, his hands up high in surrender. “She’s not a werewolf, Mr. Jenkins. She’s a reporter
looking
for the werewolf. Besides, she’s still got her clothes on. The werewolf has never been seen in clothes!”

The old man’s eyes narrowed, then relaxed. “You sure she’s a reporter, boy?” The rifle lowered an inch. “Maybe that’s just what she told you.”

Andrea didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Seriously. Was she being punk’d here or what?

“I can show you my press badge,” she volunteered and nodded toward her bag lying a few feet away. “Or maybe you’d like to see the receipt from the airport proving I just got into town today?” Reed scrambled to grab her satchel and offered it to the man with the rifle.

Sean lowered Andrea’s feet to the ground, but he kept one hand against her lower back, helping to steady her. She brushed her hair away from her face and felt her eyes drawn to his again.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

She struggled for an ounce of composure. “I’m fine,” she managed in a husky voice. “Thank you.”

Sean’s gaze swept over her, and her heart jumped. Her face grew hot as his eyes studied her. She waited for some spark of acknowledgment, half-expecting him to look shocked, maybe even laugh.

No flicker of recognition came, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Under different circumstances, she would have held out her hand and reminded him who she was, but no way was she going to volunteer that information with her hair in disarray and her clothes a mess. No way. Especially not given the nature of her business in town.

Get ahold of yourself, Lockhart. Of course he wouldn’t recognize you. You meant nothing to him.

The younger man said something. He was offering her phone to her in an outstretched hand while he introduced Sean. She pushed the phone into her pocket as she tried to grasp what the teenager was saying. She was grateful Reed introduced her only as Andrea when he explained that she wrote for the infamous tabloid.

“Dammit!”

The grumpy gray-bearded man dropped her ID back into the bag with a frown, lowered his weapon and passed Andrea’s belongings back to the younger man.

“I reckon you are another reporter.” He mumbled something menacing under his breath. “Do you know how long it took me to set that trap?”

His concern for her safety was overwhelming. Andrea lifted her chin. “Do you know how long it took me to get out of it?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. He gathered what was left of the rope and tossed it over his shoulder. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before wandering around these parts alone. It ain’t safe.” He nodded at Sean, then marched off into the woods, still grumbling something incoherent.

“Well, he was lovely.” Andrea lifted a hand and brushed the hair out of her eyes. She’d probably need to track down this guy—Jenkins—later for an interview. He obviously believed the town’s folklore with a passion that bordered on
crazy
.

“Yeah, that was awkward.” Reed laughed. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault.” She looked everywhere but at Sean.

“Uh, Sean, she wants to talk to you when you get a few minutes,” Reed added, slinging his camera strap over one shoulder. “I told her that you’d written a few stories that might help her out.”

“Really?” Sean looked at her now with an interest that expanded beyond one journalist meeting another. She’d seen him aim that same seductive smile at more than one female in the past, but never at her. It unnerved her to realize he
finally
saw her as a female. A smile tugged at her lips at the irony, even as a zing of awareness raced through her body.

“Welcome to Woodbine,” he said. “But unless Brangelina has descended upon or is getting married in our little town, I can’t imagine why the
Naked Truth
would send a reporter to these parts.”

Was he dense? Before Andrea could form words, the kid snickered and answered for her. “I was totally serious, Sean. She’s here about the werewolf.”

“Aren’t they all?” Sean quirked one eyebrow and studied her with a hint of amusement Andrea recognized the look. He’d been playing with them.

“Do you have any other legends around here?” She dusted the dirt and leaves away from her clothing. She glanced around, looking for her bag. Anything to avoid looking at him.

“Well, now, some would say we’ve got one or two, but I don’t like to brag.” Her eyes were drawn back to his smile.

God, he’d always been cocky. She should know. When they’d competed for editor of the college paper their senior year and the board of faculty advisors had picked him for the position over her, Sean had flashed that same smile and told her, “Sorry, Andi, but the best man always wins.”

He’d spent the next year antagonizing her. Cutting her stories. Giving her the assignments no one else wanted. Treating her like a peon rather than an assistant editor.

This man had made her cry more times than she cared to remember.

But she had changed. Andrea was no longer shy or inexperienced or Sean Hunter’s peon. She was no one’s peon.

She gave him a once-over that she hoped told him she wasn’t impressed. “No offense, but I doubt our readers would find you as fascinating as a werewolf running around cornfields. On the other hand, I understand from Reed you’ve reported these sightings frequently.”

Sean picked a leaf out of her hair. One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Only a few paragraphs here and there.” He must have figured they hadn’t been properly introduced, because he held out his hand in greeting. “Sean Hunter. I’m the managing editor for the
Woodbine Dispatch
.”

“Yes, I know.” She ignored his hand—she was too afraid her own would shake from nerves if she held it out—and addressed the younger man instead. “I appreciate your help, Reed, but I’d better get back to my car. I don’t want to put you gentlemen to any trouble or keep you from getting your work done.” She kept her tone polite and hoped her expression was much the same. She was giving Sean no reason to think she was in a hurry to leave because of him.

“It’s no trouble,” Sean said. “Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

“I’m fine,” Andrea reassured him. Nothing a few aspirin and a good soak in the tub couldn’t cure. “Actually, I’m late for an appointment with—” She took a step and almost fell flat on her face. Her eyes filled with a burst of red and white stars, and the world tilted around her. The ache behind her eyes shot a piercing pain straight through her head. Sean’s strong arms caught her.

“Whoa,” he said. “Take it easy.”

Blinking, she had no choice but to rest against him until her vision cleared and her head stopped spinning. Just what she needed right now. A migraine on top of it all. Pushing herself away, she gripped his arms until she knew she could stand on her own feet without falling.

“Sorry.” She released her hold. “I’m all right now. I should really get back to my room.” She’d have to reschedule her appointment with the county animal control officer, she decided. Maybe she could do it over the phone tomorrow morning.

“I’m not sure you’re okay to drive just yet,” Sean said. “Why don’t you sit down for a few minutes or let me drive you to a doctor?”

Andrea was tempted, but it was too dangerous.

If she left now, he’d just decide she was one of those obnoxious, unfriendly stereotypical tabloid reporters like they often portrayed on TV. At least, she hoped he would decide that. It sure beat the alternative—his recognizing her. She knew he would never recognize her face, not since the accident, but he would certainly recognize her name.

“I’m sure it’s just a minor thing,” she told him. “It’ll pass once I sit down in the car and pop some painkillers.”

“Here. Sit here,” Reed insisted, clearing away a spot on an uprooted tree. “We can answer some of your questions until you feel better. Right, Sean?”

“Sure,” Sean answered with a shrug, still watching Andrea. “I’ll be glad to answer any questions that Ms.—”

“Please call me Andrea.”

“Okay, Andrea.” He shrugged and gestured toward the log. “I’ll be glad to answer any questions you might have for me. Go ahead. Fire away.”

What option did she have but to sit down and ride out this wave of dizziness? She’d seen people at her gym hang upside down on one of those strange contraption thingies and step off minutes later without a problem. Why couldn’t she be that normal? She stumbled and took a seat on the fallen tree limb.

Great. Just great.

The last thing Andrea wanted was to sit and talk with her old college nemesis. She had imagined this meeting hundreds of times in her head, when she had been younger and still wounded by their last encounter. She’d imagined tossing her success as a journalist in his face and walking away without a second glance. A few times she’d imagined slapping him silly, maybe practicing some of the self-defense moves on him she’d learned.
Possibly a swift round kick to the head
. Well, maybe nothing so violent. The most likely scenario had always been simply to deliver a few choice words. Never in a million years had she pictured running into Sean under these circumstances and while she was at what he’d only view as an all-time career low.

Not to mention, she was still having a hard time breathing.

She sighed and coughed.
Gotta stop doing that
. “I appreciate your time, Mr. Hunter.”

“Call me Sean,” he said, propping his tall body against the tree beside her. “You know, you look sort of familiar. Have we met before?”

Andrea’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ve never been to South Carolina.” She found her bag and pulled out her pen and notebook, a little surprised by how steady her hands were. She cleared her throat and looked at him. “What can you tell me about this…thing…people have reported to the county animal control officer?”

She could tell by the look in his eyes that he would much rather ask her questions than answer any.

He shrugged. “I’ve talked to a few people who say they’ve seen something.” He glanced at Reed and crossed his arms. “I wrote a story right after Becky Tanner reported seeing it, and I quoted her as saying she couldn’t describe what it looked like other than to say it resembled a werewolf you’d see in the movies. The AP wire picked up the story, and after that, people started whispering that we had a werewolf in our midst. I guess that’s how the whole thing got blown out of proportion. TV shows, TV news, magazines—they all picked it up and like to come poking around now and again.”

“When was the first sighting reported?”

“About two years ago, around Halloween.”

So Sean had been here for at least two years? How strange. She briefly wondered what had led him here before reminding herself she shouldn’t care. It was near the end of September now. Close enough to the anniversary of the sighting to be considered relevant. “And what was the reaction to the first story you wrote about this animal? Or do people here actually think it’s a man who sprouts fur and turns into a wolf when the moon is full?”

“People don’t know what the heck it is,” Reed interjected, “but no one really believes it’s a traditional werewolf. Well, not most people. We just don’t know what else to call it or what kind of animal it is.”

“I got a lot of phone calls when the first article ran, that’s for sure.” Sean smiled, uncrossed his arms and shook his head. “People either wanted to report their own sighting or tell me what an irresponsible piece of journalism it was. I guess we got a few calls from people excited about the idea, wanting to know more. Some kids down at the high school even formed a Werewolf Club because of it.”

“A Werewolf Club?” This story got more and more fascinating by the second. “The school allowed that?”

He shrugged. “The students convinced their current-events teacher it was a legitimate excuse to study werewolves. I think they just wanted an excuse to go werewolf hunting at midnight.”

Werewolf hunting at midnight? What a hook. Andrea made a note to contact the high school first thing tomorrow.

Reed stepped forward. “They won’t let us hunt it, though. We just watch movies and talk about what it could be after school. It’s pretty lame, if you ask me.”

The woman in Andrea was kind of relieved to hear that, but the reporter was a tad disappointed.

“You know, you really have beautiful eyes,” Sean said, staring, and she felt her cheeks heat at the compliment. Her green eyes were a legacy from her mother’s Irish ancestors, no doubt. Brandon had told her she had a nice, fine-boned face that was pretty enough, but it had been her eyes that had grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. She personally didn’t see what was so special about them.

“Are you really writing a story on this for a tabloid?” Sean changed the subject. Thank goodness. Sean was
not
supposed to be looking into her eyes.

Andrea dug a business card out of her purse so she’d have an excuse to look away from him. Her hand hovered over the small stack of cards in her bag. Should she chance it?

Hopefully Sean wouldn’t see her full name on the card until she had hightailed it out of here. Oh yeah. She was so out of here tonight. She handed the card to Reed, who was practically hovering over her. Maybe the teen would hang on to it and Sean wouldn’t even see the card. Andrea took a deep breath. “It’s not the
Washington Post,
but it pays the bills.”

“I love this magazine.” Reed let out a small laugh that somehow sounded impressed. “Cool!”

Not the typical reaction. Andrea smiled. “Yes, we’re…very entertaining.”

Judging by Sean’s amused smile, he found it to be very entertaining indeed. Funny thing, though. It was a lot easier to make fun of the place when you didn’t work there.